No Angels In Heaven
by notevenifyoukillme
Summary: With Buffy dead by Angel's hand and the ascension forthcoming, not only must Angel come to terms with what he's done; it's the end of the world.
1. The Other Side

**Authors Note: **I do not own Buffy, Angel (... I wish) or any other BtVs or AtS characters, they are solely the property of Joss Whedon &etc.  
**Setting:** A few weeks after Graduation Day Part II.  
**Spoilers:** Season 3 of Buffy to an extent.  
**Plot: **Alternate ending to Graduation Day Part II.  
**Note:** The time tenses are a bit confusing, but if you know the order of events for Graduation Day and work off of what characters say, you'll get it.

* * *

"Angel?"

A voice sounded his name - a miracle in itself. He hadn't allowed himself much human interaction. God knows he didn't deserve it.

_"Death is too good for you!" Giles spat. "Let yourself live with what you've done to me, her family, her friends and the rest of the world. Go to her grave and lay down flowers with' love'," the word dripped with acid, "knowing you put her there. You wanted to live so badly? Live forever; I pray without a minute's peace."_

"Angel?" The voice sounded again, it was cautionary and timid. He chose not to answer it. Light footfalls echoed down the halls, creeping closer.

"Angel? It's Willow. I'm sorry to... Barge in... I just thought you should know that... the funeral's tomorrow."

Angel wondered morosely why Willow was talking to him. It was reasonable that she should hate him just as the others did. She was closer to Buffy than any of them.

But Willow wasn't gone yet.

"And I don't think you should come. I could forgive you for Angelus. He wasn't you. We all know that. But you drained the life out of her, in the end. It wasn't him, it was you," she paused, the grieving teenager regathering her thoughts.

"Congratulations, Angel. You did what he couldn't. You killed her."

Something inside Angel snapped as his game face came into play. It was all he could do not to snap her neck in his momentary rage as he forced himself to remain vigil. Something about hearing the tinkling voice of an innocent remind him that he had killed her overwhelmed and infuriated him. He was amazed that he still had it in him to feel even sporadic anger towards anyone, he didn't feel like he had much room left for anything except malicious self-loathing and grief.

He heard Willow leave something on the ground - _probably a stake_, he mused - and leave quietly. He could smell with potency just how much she had cried in the last few weeks. She hadn't been crying when she entered his mansion, probably determined to seem tough. At least one of them was coping.  
Angel stood and swiftly picked up what Willow had left for him. He exhaled in pain as the silver cross dropped to his feet.

It seemed like time was standing still around him; seconds, minutes or hours could have passed and it wouldn't have made any impression. Angel remained frozen as he delved into a cavalcade of memories, staring down at the cross at his feet.

She hadn't been wearing this when she died, but her blood was still on it. He supposed that was because of all the fighting she had done wearing it. Fighting against things she could kill easily, things she could hate, things she didn't have to, things she knew she could destroy, not things she would force to suck every drop of blood from her veins in one last sacrifice.

_"Guess what precious? You're not one of them."_

_"I'm not exactly one of you, either."_

_"Is that what you tell yourself these days?" _

As most would know, an enemy is usually in the habit of saying cruel or aggressive things on most occasions just for the hell of it. It's an odd sensation to realise with perfect clarity that everything said out of spite, anger, hurt and vengeance was right, and that that person who wanted to hurt you the most is the one who was absolutely correct.

_"What, did you think she'd look at your face - your true face - and give you a kiss?"_

To say that Angel had dealt with Buffy's death in any way would be entirely false. Unlike so many others before him, he had accepted it. He saw the body and the blood, he knew she was dead and he knew she wasn't coming back to save him like she had so many other times before, he just didn't know where to go from where he was.

He didn't want anything, God knows he had no earthly desires. Even thirst played little part in his regime. He wasn't sure if this was something he could recover from, and with no ties to anyone else except for causing the death of someone they loved, he didn't see how he could stand up and keep trying to exist, there didn't seem much point. He had known of powerful romances in his time; seen them - ended them, where Angelus was concerned - but he knew that there hadn't been anything like he and Buffy, never had a Slayer and a Vampire coexisted or loved. He imagined even if he'd been human, there wouldn't have been anything like the two of them. Some preternatural sense that created a physical buzzing that indicated that they were close. No, they had been unique.

He lifted his head and for the first time in several weeks really saw his environment. He had been so overcome with guilt and grief that he'd scarcely climbed from the safety of his mind for more than a few seconds each day.

He saw the smashed table, the wrecked silver pot and the floor that smelled so strongly of bleach that it was nearly intoxicating. The day after her death he had doused the floor in it after a snap decision not to burn the whole place to the ground. Looking into his bedroom, he also saw her leather jacket - the very same one he had given to her in her first year in Sunnydale, laying on his bed, emanating her scent. Resigned once again, he sat and held the necklace tightly in his palm, against his still-beating heart, ignoring the caustic effect on his skin and focusing on the ice that enveloped the entirety of his being.

*

_"We both know what you hunger for, what you need. Hey, it's nothing to be ashamed of, it's what makes eternal life worth living."_

"No," Angel said.

"It's the only way," Buffy begged, her neck still exposed.

"Get away from me," Angel pushed himself out of bed, barely standing. He was almost dead, the vampire poison was quick. He was shirtless and sweating, and for the first time in God knew how long, he felt cold.

"It'll save you."

"And it'll kill you."

"Maybe not, not if you don't take it all."

"You can't ask me to do this," he pleaded.

"I won't let you die. I _can't_. Angel, the blood of a Slayer is the only cure."

"Faith."

"I tried... I killed her."

"Then it's over," said Angel, fighting consciousness as he stumbled from his room, crashing onto a small table in front of his fireplace.

Following, Buffy pulled him up to stand and looked him in the eyes.

"It is NEVER over. I won't let you die. Drink!"

"Please," he said, little energy remaining.  
With an exasperated look on her face, Buffy swung her fist back and punched Angel, waiting for the change. A second swing, still nothing. On her third swing a growl sounded and Angels' game face was back. Not wasting a second, Buffy grabbed Angels' hair and forced him down into her neck.

Angels' lips were pressed to her neck, Buffy relying on his thirst and delirium to surpass his convoluted nobility and save him.

And it did, for a price.

_"I'm not afraid of you. I bet she is, though."_

* * *

Thanks for reading!  
I'll post the next chapter in a few days, depending on views and stuff because hey, who wants to post something no one's reading anyway?  
Comments are welcome. (:


	2. Dancing Stars

Okay, so here's Chapter Two. Not exactly sure where I'm going with this introduction... Enjoy! :D  
Oh, and I skipped past the part where Angel first takes Buffy into the hospital, because it would be exactly the same as the canon.

* * *

_"For a hundred years you've not had a moment's peace because you won't accept what you are."_

Returning to the present, Angel realised he'd fallen asleep. It was dark_. It's time_, he decided.

It was midnight as Angel walked carefully towards her grave; the graveyard was silent as light drops of rain fell delicately onto the soil of these graves. Even Mother Nature was mourning the Slayer.

It didn't take him long to locate her grave, he followed her friends' scents.

A red rose in hand, Angel knelt down to her tombstone, some sort of previously unrecognised realisation hitting him as he stared at her grave and realised she was right under him.

_Buffy Anne Summers, _

_Beloved daughter and friend, _

_She saved the world_

_A lot _

_1981 - 1999_

It was uncertain how long he remained vigil, watching this grave, impossibly waiting for some sign of life.

Suddenly from behind him came a familiar airy British murmur.

_"The Slayer's in the ground darling, I can feel her moving under us. The birds are all dancing... Dancing and singing... They whisp-"_

Drusilla's deranged ranting was cut off when Angel grasped her by the throat.

"You shouldn't be here, Drusilla," Angel hissed.

Drusilla's eyes became larger and she giggled as a huge grin broke out on her face. "And neither should you!"

Pausing, Drusilla squealed in delight.

"Not here, not right, not here, I can see her blood swimming in your eyes, My Angel had a party. With Cake. And eggs. And tea," she tried to pirouette, stopped by Angels' strong grasp on her throat, "And the Slayers' blood!"

Quick to react, Angel pulled out a stake.

Moving with more speed than Angel had anticipated, Drusilla turned and knocked the stake out of his hand. "Did she try to put wigglies into your chest again? Is that why you bit back?" She growled, giggling.

It may have been because he had made her this, or because he felt pity for her, or even a mixture of both, but Angel had never been able to kill Drusilla, and he knew he wasn't about to be responsible for any more death.

"Leave, before I kill you," Angel threatened.

"Put the needle down, repeat, repeat, repeat. You can't do that Angel," she cooed.

"Try me."  
"Ooh! A game! My Angel wants a game!" Drusilla picked up the stake and handed it to Angel.

She was right, he couldn't kill her, but he certainly felt no qualms in causing her pain right now.

Swiftly, he stabbed the stake into Drusilla's jugular. That would keep her down long enough for him to leave before he had another death on his conscience, not that they wouldn't have plenty of company. He ignored her screams and walked back to his appropriately lifeless mansion.

*

_"Don't whimper and mule like a mangy human. Kill. Feed. Live!"_

_"Angel..." _Buffy whispered weakly, fading out of consciousness.

Angel was in a completely animalistic state, totally unresponsive, and not until he rolled off of Buffy completely cured did he notice how pale she was, and the fact that her heartbeat was barely audible even to his preternatural hearing.

*

Angel stood by as they worked, watching their attempts to save her.

"How is she?"

"We're not sure. We're doing all we can, but she lost a lot of blood."

"A payphone?"

"Right out there," the doctor pointed to the right.

Angel walked outside, inserting a coin and dialling Giles.

Inside of the room next to the payphone was Mayor Wilkins.

"It's a miracle she's alive from the blood loss, but the damage to her head it too severe. There's almost no chance she'll ever wake up."

"Doctor, there's a girl next door with severe blood loss."

"I'll be right there."

Mayor Wilkins walked nonchalantly through the door connecting the two rooms into the other patients' room.

"Buffy Summers," said the Mayor, his voice calm with underlying malice. The girl was pale white. She had a pulse, but it was weak. The Mayor doubted that he would have to suffocate her, but he would anyway, it seemed like the proactive thing to do.

Placing his hand gently on her mouth and nose, he turned her head to the side, examining her neck punctures.

The girl began to struggle weakly, but it wouldn't do anything. He was a nearly demonic immortal, she was a Slayer who had about enough blood to fill a teaspoon.

An attending walked into the room and saw the inaudible struggle.

_"Sir! No!" _the attending tried to pull the Mayor away from the girl to no avail. _"Someone call security!"_

Angel heard the woman call for help and raced back into the hospital room.

He threw the Mayor off of Buffy angrily. "Don't do that."

"Oh, I'll do that and more. You're in for a world of pain. Misery loves company, and I'm willing to share that with you and your _whore_!"

At that Angel grabbed the Mayor and threw him into the glass window next to the door separating the two Slayers' rooms.

Chuckling, the Mayor stood, insisting to the bystanders that he was fine. "Well, someone's been eating his spinach. This isn't over, but there will be a br-"

The Mayor was cut off by a cacophony of beeping and sirens from the machine attached to Buffy.

"She's going into hypovalemic shock!" yelled the attending. Mayor Wilkins smiled and glided back into Faiths' room.

Angel turned and saw Buffy convulsing violently with attendings trying to reattach tubes correctly. After a huge jerk, she was still.

"We're losing her, the wound in her neck has reopened, stem the blood loss!" a doctor yelled at the several nurses gathered around Buffy.

Buffy's eyes were only slightly opened, looking at Angel, he wasn't sure, but she may have been trying to reach for him. His body responded to her needs automatically, drawing closer, looking at her as though they were the only two people left in the world.

"I love you," she choked out. Tears pricked his eyes. He was going to lose her, again. But then, this is what he had wanted. Not her death, but he had been planning to leave her, anyway.

_"Angel, I want my life to be with you."_

_"... I don't."_

"I love you," he whispered.

Smiling gently, she closed her eyes and drifted somewhere else - somewhere unreachable. Angel had all but forgotten about the doctors around her bed trying to save her.

"Leave," an attending said to Angel.

"What?"

"You're only getting in our way, now _leave,_" he demanded.

Angel walked out of the room, the sight of Buffy surrounded by a pool of blood on her pillow burnt into his memory. He brushed her cheek with his hand on the way out, shuddering at how cold she felt, even to him.

A second, maybe, had passed when Giles, Xander and Willow ran into the hospital.

"How is she?" Giles demanded.

"I don't know. She's gone into shock. They were trying to stop her bleeding when I left."

"Faith?"

"She's out of the picture."

"Then how?"

Angel was silent, guilt painted plainly across his face. "Buffy... Cured me... She made me-"

"You fed off her," Giles stated with no inflection.

"Yes."

Xander stared at Angel, "Well, it's good to know when the chips are down you'll feed off the girl that loves you to save your own ass."

Angel looked down, his eyes wet.

"Go," Giles said bluntly.

"I... I don't want to-"

"Sir?" It was the attending that had tried to pull the Mayor off of Buffy.

Angel went to reply, but Giles intercepted.

"Is there news about Buffy?" he pressed.

"Are you friends?"

"Family."

The attending paused, thinking of how to word whatever she was about to say. "She lost a lot of blood. There was nothing we could do.

"The blood loss... it was just too severe, there were scarcely three drops left in her... what animal could have done that damage?" she said aloud, mostly to herself, "I... If you'd like to see the body before... It's in here."

Willows' face crumpled and her tears began to flow as she fell into Xander, who had tears of his own welling up in his eyes. Giles stood like a statue, utterly shocked.

"I'm sorry for your loss," the attending said, "would you like to s-"

"Yes," Giles said, devoid of emotion.

Deathly silent, Angel, Giles, Xander and Willow walked into Buffy's hospital room.

And there she was. Laying still, skin pale white, eyes shut with a huge set of tooth marks mutilating her neck visible under her golden blonde hair.

Mindlessly, Angels' feet had carried him towards Buffy so that he was just inches from her, his hand reaching out to brush her cheek one more time...

"DON'T TOUCH HER!" Xander exploded, shoving him away. "DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER. I SHOULD STAKE YOU RIGHT NOW."

"I'm... I didn't mean to-" Angel stuttered, then, glancing at the body again fell to his knees, tears impairing his vision.

"Mean to what, Angel? Take _all _of her blood? Do you realise what this means? Having Buffy die before the Mayors' ascension? Not only have we lost the best person I've ever known, we may all very well die tomorrow."

"I... I have to call Joyce... Buffy told her to leave for tomorrow," Willow whispered. Xander nodded and released her.

Xanders' hands now free, Angel noticed the stake he held in his sleeve. Xander knelt down, looking like he was about to help Angel stand. Which he did, only to press a stake against his heart.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now."

"I can help you tomorrow."

"Yes, you've been a great help so far."

"Just... Just let me help tomorrow and then we'll do this."

"No. Death is too good for you!" Giles spat. "Let yourself live with what you've done to me, her family, her friends and the rest of the world. Go to her grave and lay down flowers with' love'," his face contorted at the word, "knowing you put her there. You wanted to live so badly? Live forever; I pray without a minute's peace."

For one last time, Angel stared down at Buffy, trying to see her through his murky, tear-clouded eyes. Even in death, she was beautiful. Even in death, she was his. He was overcome with self-contempt as he walked out of the hospital, sunrise fast approaching. Beyond thoughts, he was consumed with concentrated grief. Pure animalistic passion consumed him as all thoughts blurred and he ran too fast for any of them.


	3. Coming to Terms

Whatever Angel's life had been when he entered that hospital with the woman he loved alive in his arms; that had faded with her heartbeat. Uncertainty and pain stretched out to the horizon before him.

*

_"You could have ruled with me in The Masters' court for a thousand years, but you gave it all up for her! You love someone who hates us."_

"I'm so sorry," Angel said, not making eye contact.

"Hey, it's okay," Buffy replied, reaching out and stroking his face.

He held her hand there, resting his cheek in her palm.

"Is this a dream?" he asked.  
"... Yeah, I think it is."

"I didn't want it to end like this."

"I know. I mean, I'm not saying I'm happy I'm dead, but I feel ... Peaceful? Like everything's going to be okay."

*

_"You're sick, and you'll always be sick. And you'll always remember what it was like to watch her die."_

"Giles, how are we going to fight the mayor?" Xander looked distressed.

"I don't know, we've got to think like ..." Giles stumbled over Buffy's name, "a Slayer. What are his weaknesses? It took a volcano to kill the last demon of this kind."

"Faith; she's his weak link. At the hospital he was grieving, and not only in a homicidal I-wanna-be-a-demon way," Angel said.

"Can we have less input from Dead Boy?" Xander said.

Angel got up and strode over to Xander, readying his face for his fangs.

"Haven't you done enough?" Giles asked. Angel stopped dead in his tracks and sat back down.

"Faith's knife. It was in Buffy's bedroom when I..." Willow started. No one wanted to think about Willow's description of events when she told Joyce Buffy had died, nor Angel their confrontation. "If we... I think I can make that work." Willow said. "It's going to be hard though, without her."

"I know," Giles said; his face a stone cold mask. Giles had displayed the least amount of emotion in front of anyone as far as Angel could tell; he must have been suffering in silence.

"We're going to need firepower, and a lot of it," Angel said.

This was usually the part where Xander would make some sort of joke, but he found himself unable to joke about anything at that moment, settling for hating Angel with everything inside himself.

Their planning was inspired. Buffy would have been proud. '_If she wasn't dead,' _Xander thought, a shiver running down his spine.

*

_"Last time I saw you it was Kimonos."  
__"And last time I saw you it wasn't high school girls."_

The masses were assembled and the mayor was beginning to ascend.

"It has begun. My destiny. It's a little sooner than I expected. I had this whole section on civic pride. But I guess we'll just skip to the big finish."

"NOW!" Willow yelled, the students revealing their well-concealed weapons. Parents ran and screamed, terrified of the giant snake-like demon before them.

Angel had assembled an impressive number of the fighters who were most likely to help get them through the battle, including Wesley Wyndam-Price (much to the surprise of everyone who had seen him fight).

Xander, with his ex-Army Guy experience, commanded the students in their attack on the mayor and his vampires. The fight raged as Giles was nowhere to be seen. Angel was unsure of what their grand plan was, sticking with "kill as many of them as you can". He had left the library as soon as there was no absolute need for him to be in the same vicinity as Willow, Xander and Giles.

Oz, apparently a key player in the ploy to bring the mayor down, was standing in front of the mayor. Angel wasn't sure why _Oz _was the one there, but he thought it may have had something to do with the fact that he was the strongest after... That he was the strongest.

"Hey, giant snake demon! Can you smell this blood? With love from Faith, Big Guy," Oz said, waving Faith's blood-covered knife around dramatically. "I'm thinkin' you probably want this back." That's when he ran, and the giant demon-snake followed.

That's also when Angel heard Xander scream in pain.

"HOLD. THE. LINE," Xander said, keeling to the ground. His right leg was bleeding and from the knee down was contorted in a way that looked like it wouldn't easily be fixed. The vamp that had snapped his leg was dust behind him.

"XANDER!" Willow yelled, looking away from her fight.

"Willow! _Hold. The. Line_," Xander yelled, still trying to shoot flaming arrows from his bow in his damaged state. Two vampires were behind him, moving in for the kill. Angel closed the ten or so metres between Xander and himself and fought them both, eventually staking them.

Willows' face was pained but adamant as she continued to instruct to the freshly-graduated soldiers. There was no time to care for the wounded or remove the dead (vampires being a somewhat easier case), but nonetheless, the students did try.

Angel continued his mindless dance; punch, stake, punch, stake, for, Buffy, punch, stake. The mayor was nowhere to be seen, a trail of destruction running through the school. The fight was now on a level playing field; the vampires were much stronger, but they were harshly outnumbered and unprepared for the backlash that confronted them.

As Angel staked a particularly skilled vampire, he felt something in the hollow of his chest: a stake. It hadn't killed him. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.

All of a sudden, there was a mighty explosion from the school.

No, the explosion _was _the school. It went up in flames and incinerated the mayor in its wake.

The vampires stopped fighting and ran for cover, afraid of the eclipse passing. They didn't realise the sun had set. Angel walked over to Xander, who was severely wounded but not yet dead. Almost as if on queue, the paramedics arrived in masses. Angel carried Xander over to them.

"Put me down, I don't need your help," Xander hissed.

Angel obliged and watched Xanders' face contort in pain as he bent his leg at even more stomach-churning angle. Angel looked at him sternly and lifted him up. If this had been any other situation, he would have almost revelled in the young boys' pain, but with all recent events considered, he had to do what he could to help anyone and everyone he could.

"I'll never forget what you did, no matter how much you help us, or help me. Thanks for not making me the second course, but she's still dead," Xander said.

"I know."

"Xander!" Willow yelled as Angel passed him to the paramedics and they placed him onto a stretcher and into an ambulance. "Xander, can you hear me?"

Xander half-smiled, "loud and clear." Willow, looking relieved, moved into the ambulance and held his hand. "You know, this means no playing footsies for a while, I guess y -"

Whatever he was about to say was cut off by the ambulance closing its doors and turning on its sirens.

"You did well, Angel," Giles approached him, relief shining dimly through a thick layer of loss. That face caused Angel to realise that he had been responsible for the deaths of the two people that Giles had loved the most; Jenny Calendar and Buffy.

"Thank you."

"May I ask a favour?" Giles was sour and formal.

"Of course."

"I'm going back to England, I've done my job; teach my Slayer all I could and then watch her die at the hands of a demon," there was bitter resentment in his voice. Partly for Angel, partly for himself, he imagined.

Angel remained silent.

"- And I'd like to ask you to leave. I shan't be here, but I can only comprehend how much more difficult it will be for Xander and Willow if they see you on a regular basis."

"They'll still fight?" Of course they would. Angel knew that. They were like her, in it until the end.

"Yes. I dare say they will continue to fight until it kills them both."

_"You're not friends. You'll never be friends. You'll be in love till it kills you both."_

"When Buffy sent you to hell," Giles continues, "and absconded to L.A., Xander, Willow and Oz fought demons for the several months it took until her return. Did Buffy ever tell you that?"

"She... Never told me she left."

"I daresay killing you took an insurmountable toll on her, though she hardly ever spoke of it," Giles' voice was rich with irony. "I suppose you're even now, though."

"It's not like that," Angel didn't even look up.

*

_"Love isn't brains, children, it's blood. Blood screaming inside you to work its will."_

"Then WHAT is it like, Angel?" Joyce screamed. She was situated in the middle of his mansion, she had left the door open, sunlight pouring in. He wondered if she was planning to push him into it. He wondered why he didn't care. "I come home after Buffy told me that me staying would get her killed in this epic battle because Willow called me before I get to the airport, so I come home, only to be told that my daughter is dead before the battle has started, and that it was_ your fault._"

Angel admired how clearheaded and strong Joyce was being. The tears welling in her eyes had not yet spilled over in Angels' presence.

"She made me... Vampire poison... The Slayer's blood was the only cure, she..."

"She TOLD you to kill her? I heard you were a better liar than that."

"She didn't tell me to kill her. When a vampire... Drinks... It's totally animalistic. There's no control."

"She said you were different."

"I'm not."

Joyce reminded Angel so much of Buffy when she was angry. She was proud and stubborn, and in this case completely right. He felt a pain in his side remembering how endearing Buffy was when she was being stubborn.

"You should have left her alone."

"I know," Angels' voice wavered at the end and he collapsed onto his lounge, his face in his hands. "God, I know."

"She was strong. She could handle anything that life threw at her and survive - except for you. I know I told you this days ago - before the prom, but now it's different. _You could have walked away from this, and now MY DAUGHTER IS DEAD_," Joyce's face remained strong and furious, but she was now crying.  
"_I was going to!_" Angel remembered looking down on Buffy's lifeless corpse and tears that threatened to overflow leaked down his face.

"She deserved better than just another bloody romance."

Joyce threw something down on Angel's lap and stepped back, apparently gauging his reaction. It looked like a piece of a book cover that had been carelessly torn away. It read; _'Buffy and Angel 4ever_,' and printed underneath was '_till death do us part (;'._

Angel cried out in distress and broke a piece of the already-smashed coffee table in half.

Joyce stood in the sunlit doorway, turning to leave. "Goodb-"

*

"-ye Angel," Giles said, walking away.

He would do the right thing. He would fight the good fight, he'd kill every demon he found, and he'd push all of his anger and guilt and grief into destroying demons as a substitute for destroying the person he felt the most hatred for. This would go on until he could one day fade into nothing, still fighting the good fight in her name.

"I hope you do the right thing and leave," his stare intensified, "I know that Xander would love an excuse to stake you."

Angel shrugged. He couldn't find any strong objection to that. He couldn't find anything inside of him. He was completely lifeless.

_After 240 years, finally. _


	4. Reconciliation

Well, this is the last chapter; just tying up loose ends. Probably my favourite chapter.

* * *

_"What about me? I love you so much, and I tried to make you go away. I killed you and it didn't help. __And I hate it! I hate that it's so hard ... and that you can hurt me so much. I know everything that you did, because you did it to me. Oh, God! I wish that I wished you dead. I don't. I can't."_

Angel stood in the moonlight next to Buffy's grave. He sat and watched her during the night, and hid in the mausoleum during the day.

Surprised, he edged out of sight as he heard someone draw closer to her grave.

"I'm..." distressed breathing, "sorry. For not coming sooner. I wanted to, I just couldn't... Bring myself... I failed you. You were so strong. There was so much potential. I didn't think... So loving..." Giles kneeled down by the grave, stroking the tombstone. "I brought you something... I know it doesn't make any difference, but... you earned it." Angel looked at him in shock as he laid down Buffy's high school diploma. Giles' head fell forward into his hands and began sobbing, "you should have been there."

Giles sat for a little longer, absently stroking her name affectionately.

Once he had left, Angel returned, picking up and reading the diploma left on the grave. Class of '99. He wondered how many of the students of that class had lived to graduation.

Idly, he began tracing around Buffy's name, falling asleep and reuniting himself with the little slice of peace he had left.

*

_"Love's a funny thing."_

The music played soft and low, it was comforting and it was theirs. They could have this. Even if it was just a memory, a dream, or something else, they were together and they could have it.

"Are you really here?" Angel whispered in Buffy's ear.

"Hmm... When I was in L.A., I dreamt of you all the time. Did you know that?" She smiled warmly, lightly chuckling. "You - or, dream you - once told me 'I'll never leave, not even if you kill me.' Same basic principal. And I love you. I did what I did because I had to."

"But are you really here?"

"I don't know," she said, rubbing her neck. Angel looked down, horrified by the bleeding puncture wound that she didn't seem to notice. "I guess... I'm always with you. We could always sense each other, but I think it goes deeper than that," she looked perplexed, and suddenly fainted.

"Buffy?!" Angel shook her desperately. He had just gotten her back, he couldn't lose her again. "Buffy!"

Her eyes opened quickly, she looked embarrassed. "Sorry. Guess I'm sort of out of it. Jet lag from heaven," she said, winking.

"Well, you sound like Buffy," Angel laughed.

"But uh," she continued, "anyway, I think it goes deeper than that. I don't think death - _my _death, anyway, yours was never a problem," she laughed, "can separate us. I feel you. Wherever I am, whatever I'm doing now, I still feel you.

"And I don't know if this is just your subconscious giving you what you want, or your brain is wigging out, or if this is really me, but whatever this is, or whatever I am, it's yours."

"I've gone insane and my brain is trying to placate me, is that what you're suggesting?" he teased.

Buffy laughed, staring up at Angel for a moment and kissing him lightly. "Now, for the hard part."

"Mm? What is it?" his eyes were closed, his cheek resting in her hair, with his hand stroking her arm.

"No matter how connected we are via... Whatever connects us - our souls, I guess. That doesn't change the fact that I'm still dead."

Angel was silent for a moment. He was still suspended in the bliss of dreams where nothing had to make sense and facts were optional.

"I'm... sorry..." he began his string of apologies, looking down.

"Hey, ssh. It's okay," she lifted his chin so that he was looking at her. "... And anyway, I find being totally at peace really promotes forgiveness."

"Stay with me."

"Forever."

She stayed, warm in his arms. Angel felt at peace, too. Some part of him knew that it was a fantasy where she wasn't dead and he didn't have to sit by a dead girls' grave to feel something. He _was _lifeless, but here he was living. He was hers. He was reconciled.

_... After 240 years, finally. _

He slept - stayed with her forever, as the sunlight brought the flames that claimed him on her grave. There were ashes and bodies, there was grief and loss, but there in the end for them both, there was peace.

* * *

Well, there you go. I guess it was a weird ending, but I like it. (: Did I mention that comments are welcome? 


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